He loved my children and never wanted to make life difficult for them. He could be as visible or as unobtrusive as the situation demanded. And the grandchildren were the delight of his life; he was always thinking of things we could do for them.
He did so many things quietly, never caring if he got the credit for it. He was as strong as the situation demanded – the person family members and friends knew they could call on no matter the time of day or night.
When he was sick, it was very hard for him to be on the receiving end of care. He repeatedly told me he didn’t want to be a burden to me or to anyone else. I told him he could never be a burden but it hurt him nonetheless. He suffered so much in silence, though I could see how much pain he was in no matter how hard he tried to hide it from me.
He was so appreciative of the help others gave him and of the shul members and rabbi who came faithfully every morning to help him daven.
He loved the land of Israel and when he was in the hospital he told me he wanted to go home. When I replied that I hoped he would soon be discharged, he said the home he was referring to was Israel.
Hashem heard his prayers. His soul was gathered to Heaven, his body brought home to Israel. And always when I dream of him and wish I could just ask him what I should do, I hear him telling me, as he did at the end, “You’ll be all right.”
I loved him with all my heart. I felt as one with him. I miss him all the time. But I thank God for the years we had together and I feel blessed.
Naomi Klass Mauer is associate publisher of The Jewish Press.
